


i know you're something else

by littlelocaldreamer



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Player injury, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22948915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelocaldreamer/pseuds/littlelocaldreamer
Summary: Connor’s never had a friend like Leon before.
Relationships: Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid
Comments: 19
Kudos: 124





	i know you're something else

**Author's Note:**

> title from "seabirds" by pizzagirl. highly recommend listening to it while reading this.

Connor’s never had a friend like Leon before.

He’s had friends, like the neighborhood kids and fellow classmates at the rink. He’s had good friends, fellow skaters who turned to weekend gamers who turned to strange social media cheerleaders as the years passed on. He’s even had best friends—Stromer and Marns and those late nights at Erie far from home; the only soothing remedy a laugh between the three of them as they hit the ice way too early most mornings. 

So Connor’s had friends. 

But Leon’s different. 

They didn’t fall into easy camaraderie. They didn’t even talk much their first two years playing together. They had to start hanging out through other people— _with_ other people—first. Like a play date. Or a compatibility test. 

Nursey, as always, made the situation easier. 

_“I like him, and I like you, I think you’ll like each other,” he says with a dismissive shrug, knocking on Leon’s door as Connor stands up on his tiptoes then down on his heels, hands shoved deep in his pockets._

_“Stop looking so awkward,” Nursey whispers, patting him gently on the chest._

_Connor rolls his eyes. He’s—strangely nervous. For some reason. He doesn’t know why._

_Leon grins wide when he opens the door, welcoming them inside his place immediately._

_His high rise is spacious and clean but devoid of much comfort. It’s a little clinical—like a lab almost, which makes sense. Connor hasn’t put down roots in Edmonton yet either. No player ever knows how long they’ll be in a city until a contract._

_A big contract._

_Nursey’s friends with everyone from the moment they meet so he eases the minor tension between Connor and Leon instantly, suggesting Leon set them up with Mario Kart on his “vintage as fuck” N64._

_“Yeah, you know where it is. I’ll get drinks—“_

_Nursey gives him a playful push, “Aren’t you gonna show Connie around first?”_

_Leon’s eyebrows shoot up and Connor struggles not to stutter as he says, “Oh, he doesn’t have—“_

_But Nursey’s already ditching them for the living room down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “I want a rum and diet—with a lime. I know you’ve got the booze, Leo!”_

_They both stare at his retreating back and Connor, desperate to keep the moment from becoming awkward, blurts, “He’s the absolute worst.”_

_He grins as he says it and Leon brightens instantly, chirping, “A real menace, yeah?”_

_Connor laughs. “Exactly.”_

_He has no idea how, since even in Canada they’re still underage, but Leon basically has a fully stacked bar. By early afternoon the three of them are pleasantly sloshed, joking with and giggling at eachother like childhood friends._

_When dinner rolls around Connor realizes with a shock he hasn’t even thought about his phone once—much less checked it._

_Nursery’s girl’s expecting him back soon and when he sets up an Uber he looks at Connor expectantly, pulling on his coat._

_But the thing is—Connor doesn’t want to leave._

_“I think I’ll stay,” he says, kind of shy, “if that’s okay with you?” He turns to Leon._

_Leon’s smile is so gentle as he replies, “Of course. I’d like that.”_

_Nursey has a Cheshire grin as he glances back and forth between the two, clearly pleased with himself. But he lets them be._

_“Have fun, boys.”_

_After he leaves Connor and Leon stay up talking until long after midnight._

_When Connor finally makes it back to his own bed that night, he dreams of kind eyes and pink lips titling in a smile so sweet._

That’s the beginning. 

//

Leon’s angry. Connor can’t talk to him right now though—hoarding off reporters and trainers and medical personnel. 

It’s his first day back on the ice after an agonizing summer filled with doubt, insecurity, and physical therapy. 

He’s overwhelmed with all the attention but he owes it to the fans and the league to provide as honest a status update as possible. It’s only been rumors for months. 

But he's so tired; been at this for almost 15 minutes already. He calls on a bald guy near the back of the crowd, praying he can go home soon.

“Yeah, what’ve you got?”

The reporter smiles but it comes off as sneer. Dread fills Connor’s gut. 

“Captain—don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant of you to come back so soon from such a drastic spill? What makes your healing process more efficient than others?”

Connor feels his body go hot all over. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, strange and foreign. He knows the question is bullshit, just trying to make him look bad. But fuck if he hasn’t spent his entire career thus far desperately eager to appear as anything _other_ than better than most of the league. 

He’s fucking good at hockey. It’s not his fault. 

Before he can open his mouth, unsure of how he’d even reply, Leon shoulders in front of him, effectively creating a wall between Connor and the press. 

“Alright, that’s enough. Let the season speak for itself.”

He sounds furious, unlike Connor’s ever heard before. There’s a lot of wide eyed stares, a handful of scornful glares; but it works— the media begins to back off, slowly fleeing the room. 

It’s incredibly awkward, palpable tension in the air.

Connor can’t look at the bald guy.

He can feel his mouth hanging open, wide and slack. He has no idea what to say. But it’s not like Leon gives him a chance anyway, already leaving the room without further explanation. 

Connor snaps his jaw shut, teeth clacking together painfully. 

He wants to be mad, wants to assert to the room that he doesn’t need Leon to fight his battles for him. But no one spares him a second glance once Leon’s gone, going back to their post-practice routine. 

On his way out Nursey squeezes his shoulder hard, smiling softly without a word. 

Connor just sits on the bench, unsure of what to do now. 

He’s fully recovered, totally prepared for the season to begin. He’s been pumped up, trainers constantly commenting on how far he’s come in so little time. He’s been feeling stronger, more powerful. 

But when Leon stood in front of him just now, stance protective and dominating, Connor felt his knees go weak. 

He’s alarmed to find he didn’t hate it. 

And if his sudden shortness of breath and warm flush down his chest are any indicators—he may have liked it. 

Maybe too much. 

//

Leon’s face when he opens his door later that night is stormy, only darkening further at the sight of Connor. 

Connor wants to leave immediately, or maybe implode, but Leon steps back with a tilt of his head; beckoning. 

He’s got a soccer game on in the living room and what looks like roasted chicken cooking in a fry pan on the stove. It smells delicious and Connor’s stomach rumbles. 

“Sit,” Leon gently instructs, waving towards the kitchen island. “I was just about to eat.”

Leon has the same meal service as Connor but usually Connor’s too impatient to actually throw anything together—opting instead to order from the rink and pick it up on his way home. 

Leon serves him a plate of diced sweet potatoes, spinach and broccoli salad (“tossed in lemon and olive oil”), and balsamic fig chicken. 

It’s delicious. Connor can’t help but groan a little with the first bite. 

“Thanks, Leo,” he murmurs, grateful. 

Leon smiles at him, his first of the night, and Connor feels a little settled inside. Though not much. It says a lot about their friendship that they’re able to eat almost an entire meal in silence yet still communicate. 

_I’m not ready to talk. Let me eat first._

_—I’m good when you are._

Connor doesn’t push and Leon doesn’t give. They eat and listen to the game. It’s comfortable. 

Leon’s new apartment is a lot more homey, too. There’s some candles on the coffee table and big, fluffy blankets lining his massive sofa. Connor knows Leon was with his last girlfriend for awhile, knows she’s the one who did a lot of the decorating, but he likes it. It suits Leon—the mixture of modern and cozy combined with soft neutrals. 

It‘s homey. A permanent reminder of the fact that Leon’s here to stay. 

With Connor. For Connor. 

Connor rolls his eyes internally. That was a stupid thought. He lets it go immediately, choosing not to examine it further at this time. 

Once they’re finished Connor throws the dishes in the washer while Leon goes and changes into something more comfortable. 

By the time they’re both settled on the couch Connor feels warm and loose and full. 

He closes his eyes and allows his head to fall back against the pillows, dozing momentarily. 

He hears Leon’s short intake of breath before he speaks. 

“People think you owe them...so much. Time, energy, answers. It bothers me.”

No build, no tiptoeing. He’s going in. Connor should’ve expected nothing less. 

He doesn’t reply, waiting. 

Leon twines his fingers together, a nervous habit Connor rarely witnesses. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped today. I know it’s not my job to—“ he pauses, looking over at Connor. There’s something sad in his eyes. It makes Connor want to wrap his arms around him. 

Leon looks away, continuing, “I know it’s not my job to speak for you. You’re my best friend and I just—well.”

Connor tentatively smiles at him, waiting for it to be returned. But Leon’s tense. His shoulders are tight, hunched in. Connor wishes he knew what was going on inside his head. 

Leon shakes his head, bites his lip. He sighs and it’s heavy; particularly deep. Like there’s something physically weighing him down. 

Connor frowns. “What is it, Leo?”

Leon gets up, almost like he means to leave but then remembers he’s already at home. It would make Connor laugh if he didn’t feel the inkling of a panic attack creeping on. 

Leon turns back to him and there’s no way to describe the look on his face except raw devastation. If Connor were standing he’d be knocked over by it. Leon’s gaze is intense on a normal day; that’s nothing compared to now. He looks at Connor like he can see right through him. Like he knows—

“I’ve been having dreams about you.”

Connor’s heart jumps to his throat. “What?”

Leon stays where he is. Connor doesn’t know if he wants him to come closer. 

“Yeah.”

Connor gulps; loud and embarrassing. “I—what are they about?”

The faintest pink blooms along Leon’s cheekbones and Connor has to look away momentarily. 

It’s finally happening. They’re talking about _it_.

There’s been tension for months. 

Connor’s suspected Leon has a crush. He’s never been able to confirm anything though, not for the longest time. Not until his injury at the end of last season. 

The day it happened Leon found him as soon as he could, eyes huge and scared. Connor was so out of it—dazed and loopy on pain meds by that point—he reached for Leon’s face, unthinking, and pulled it towards his until their foreheads were touching. 

_“Connor,” Leon whispers, barely concealed fear bleeding into his tone._

_“It’s okay, I’m alright...”_

_“Connor. You scared me.”_

_Leon kisses his cheek, his forehead, the tip of his nose; the press of his lips like little puffs of clouds._

Connor doesn’t really remember the encounter; was told privately about it weeks later after a medical hearing. He feigned surprise but the truth is that Leon’s always been fairly affectionate. In the beginning Connor wrote it off to his European background. Typical behavior between two grown men. But as the years passed by and Leon grew more possessive of him, yet carefully detached—Connor started growing confused. 

First with Leon, then with himself. 

He couldn’t figure out if what he was feeling inside was sexual tension or platonic frustration. 

Not like it mattered; Connor had physical therapy to focus on. 

Still.

The way the head team doctor described Leon’s visit was...strange. He rubbed his hands together continuously while starting at the floor while he shared what he witnessed. Like he was uncomfortable to have seen something alledgedly so intimate. 

Connor wishes he could recall the moment. He could recall seeing Leon in the tunnel a few days later though, so grumpy and exhausted on his crutches and dismayed at the doctor on the other end of his phone. 

Leon snuck up on him, face filled with angst and sympathetic pain as his eyes slid over Connor’s weakened body. He reached out and cupped the back of Connor’s head so gently, with the perfect amount of protective tenderness—

Connor nodded briefly at him, almost told him how warm his hand felt, but Leon was already moving forward and Connor had to focus on the conversation at hand.

He leaned more heavily on his crutches, trying not to gaze longingly as Leon walked away. 

Looking back, he’s fairly certain the only reason his knees didn’t give out is because the doctor was giving him actual good news for the first time in weeks. But Connor almost didn’t register it. Couldn’t think beyond Leon’s simple touch— 

“I dream about us. About me being with you.”

Connor’s heart kicks, frantic and violent. 

“Leon,” Connor says, very carefully, “will you look at me?”

Leon shifts his weight, crosses then uncrosses his arms. It takes a brief, agonizing moment but he finally looks up, straight into Connor’s eyes.

Connor licks his lips, standing up slowly. He approaches Leon with caution, not wanting to scare him off. The air around them is delicate.

He holds his arms out, actually suppresses an achy wave of pain as he whispers, “We can’t.”

Leon steps back and looks down, nodding his head. “No, right. Of course.”

Connor keeps tip toeing to him, steps light and balanced. “It’s not that I don’t want to—“

Leon holds up an arm, waves his fingers back and forth. “Connor, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“But I do,” he breathes, finally standing right in front of his best friend. 

Leon’s back to not looking at him, face already closing off. 

“Please,” Connor murmurs, tone anxious as he grips Leon’s forearms, “please don’t let this change us. I can’t—we have to—“

Leon pulls back, expression unreadable. “Connor, nothing is going to change, okay? Calm down.”

Connor shakes his head, desperate suddenly. “I’ve dreamt about us too.”

Leon’s face snaps up, shocked. Connor digs his nails into Leon’s skin, needing to ground himself. His tongue feels glued to the bottom of his mouth, eyes too wide to be anything but wild. He’s terrified, palms beginning to sweat. Leon will be able to feel it soon. 

He wishes everything was less complicated. 

“You’re not alone,” he whispers, determined and sure, “but we can’t, Leo. Right? We can’t.”

It comes out shaky. Connor isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince more—Leon or himself. 

Leon surges against him, hiding his face in the soft skin between Connor’s jaw and neck, taking a harsh inhale. 

“I want to,” Leon tells him, fierce, warm breath making Connor shiver in his skin.

Connor‘s grip weakens, he closes his eyes, tilts his nose to nuzzle against the top of Leon’s head where his hair is the absolute softest, free from product. He smells so good, like safety and security and fire—

Leon lifts his head, slow and painfully cautious, and his lips connect with Connor’s as sweet as can be. A hot air balloon fills inside Connor’s chest and he’s not sure if it’s from fear or elation. 

They shouldn’t be doing this. They really shouldn’t. 

But now that he knows what Leon’s lips taste like, Connor is helpless to walk away. 

He’s not a quitter, he’s not a coward. He leans his body against Leon’s, the kitchen island taking the brunt of their weight, and wraps his arms around Leon’s mouth-watering shoulders as Leon’s firm, capable hands slide through his feather-soft hair. 

He’s been growing it out, currently at its longest length ever, and Leon breaks away from the kiss momentarily to breathlessly tell him, “Love it like this.”

He keeps playing with it as Connor’s face flames. He’s adorably bashful when it comes to compliments; never grew out of being bad at accepting them. He keeps kissing Leon so he won’t open his eyes again and see the direct effect he’s having on Connor’s full body flush. 

Connor can’t hide for long though, growing hard in his sweats and swaying forward from the force of it. Leon’s mouth latches onto his tongue, plush pink lips moving sensually and all-encompassing. They make out for ages, finally breaking apart briefly after long minutes. They stare at one another but it’s so quick they have no time to think about—or stop—what’s happening.

And when Leon pleads, so quiet and gentle, “Come with me—“ against Connor’s mouth—

Well. 

Connor can’t fathom not following. 

//

Connor’s had sex plenty of times but he’s never let another person inside his own body. 

He’s angry with himself over the fact, now. 

He can’t stop making small, high pitched noises as Leon fingers him, thick, slick digits nailing the swollen gland he’d only ever read about over and over again. 

Connor’s not loud, it’s not in his nature, but he’s whiney—needy—toes curling in Leon’s soft, lavender sheets as he fights to keep control of the situation. 

Leon looms over him, sweat rolling down his temple as he grinds his massive, angry red cock against Connor’s smooth, white hip bone.

“Wanted this for so long,” he whispers, leaning down to suck at Connor’s crazy sensitive neck, “want to take you apart.”

Connor moans, feeling so full and protected by the cover of Leon’s body. When Leon detaches from his neck with a brutal suck, Connor nudges his nose against his, feeling stupidly shy and so, so vulnerable. 

He perks his lips up, seeking attention in the most intimate way Leon’s shared it yet. 

When their mouths meet, Connor already knows he can’t let this be the last time. Leon’s not even fucking him and he’s already felt more emotion than on almost any other day in his entire life. 

He sucks his stomach in, doesn’t want Leon to see how it quivers. He’s sure if his hands weren’t glued to the bed they’d be shaking. He blinks his eyes several times, tries to keep his bottom lip from trembling. 

He’s just—experiencing so much _sensation_ —and it’s because of _Leon_ —and he can’t comprehend it. 

“Connor?”

Leon slows his fingers, quirking them up smoothly in Connor’s hole as his other hand comes to firmly grasp Connor’s tender, throbbing cock. 

“Leon, oh—fuck,” Connor gasps, completely taken with the double stimulation. 

Leon grins, eyes bright, kissing his forehead as he starts to properly jack him off. It’s a painfully raw action. Connor’s fight or flight is igniting like a powerhouse inside his brain but for the first time in forever—he ignores it. Goes against his instincts. 

His first skating coach always used to hammer him about his inability to allow himself to have what he really wanted. 

_”You’re better than these other kids, you know this. So go after the puck and take it—it’s yours!”_

_Connor stammers, “But—what if I—“_

_“No, Connor. It’s time to stop being so nice. No one is going to fight for you in this world except yourself. Go after what you want.”_

He doesn’t typically process his emotions in an outward fashion ever, tending to become overwhelmed with overthinking the moment he’s alone after a massive incident has occurred. 

It’s never really served him. 

So he takes his coach’s advice, for perhaps the first time _off_ the ice—and allows the walls to come down.

Leon kisses him and he chases his panting, open mouth for more. 

Leon rides his thigh and Connor tightens it for maximum friction.

Leon tells him, “You’re gorgeous” and Connor believes him, answers with “You are too” in the most sincere tone he can manage with all the heat from the moment. 

As he can feel his orgasm approaching, he doesn’t shut down and hide. He opens his body even more, allowing it to experience everything.

“Come on baby,” Leon encourages, muscles bulging in his arm he keeps the pace, “let go, Connor.”

Connor groans; torn between wanting to fuck Leon’s fist and ride his clever fingers—making a wounded sound when both feel too delicious to choose between. 

Leon reads his movements, his face, his dismay; he speeds up his motions as his hips thrust against the plush, sweat slick meat of Connor’s thigh.

Leon ducks his head, moaning into Connor’s neck as his body shakes and jerks. 

“I wish,” Connor whimpers, closing his eyes as he kisses Leon’s temple, “I wish we—you—“

Leon turns his head so their mouths are pressed together, so close they’re sharing breath. “Baby, what?” He sounds out of breath, maybe a little concerned. 

Connor arches his back, so close to release, as he confesses, “Wish you could come inside me.”

Connor has no idea where the thought came from but it must be the primitive part of his brain. There’s something so hot about the idea, of being marked on the inside like that; left sloppy and wet and used in the middle of Leon’s sanctuary. 

Leon bites down savagely on Connor’s neck as he paints his navel with his creamy release; sounding like he’s on the verge of tears as he takes his own cock in hand and directs the last of the spurts over Connor’s.

Connor’s hands have been pretty lax throughout this entire encounter, as he literally chose to lay down and just _take_ whatever Leon gave him—but they jump to action now.

He grips the back of Leon’s head with one as the other takes his dick into his clammy, sweaty palm. The friction combined with Leon’s come makes the nasty slick slide feel so good drool collects in the corner of Connor’s mouth; a little leaking out as he comes all over his chest and adds to Leon’s mess. 

His heart pounds and pounds. 

“Baby, fuck,” Leon gasps, reaching down and settling on top of him, “you’re so hot.”

Connor smiles, soft and pleased, opening his thighs for Leon to momentarily settle against as the glow washes over them. 

It’s either really late at night or super early in the morning. Connor can’t really tell from his position on the bed; Leon’s body blocking him from the bedside clock. 

Normally, at this stage in the hookup, Connor would be cleaning up the girl, gently helping fix her hair or her clothes, while offering to make her a smoothie or a snack before inevitably escorting her out.

It’s not that he’s a jerk—far from it—it’s that he’s not invested. 

That isn’t the case, here.

He grips Leon tight, pulling him as close as possible despite the mess between them. 

Leon’s different. Of course he is. 

“That was...” Connor pauses, unsure.

“Intense?” Leon offers, reaching for his hand.

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” Leon asks, moving back a little and adjusting his body to rest on an elbow above Connor. He keeps their fingers intertwined, face wide open and eyes concealing little from Connor. 

It’s suddenly, distinctly clarifying. Leon’s allowing Connor to see him like this. And Connor allowed the same. 

Despite his initial begging to not let this happen—it did. They can’t come back from that. 

But the world didn’t end. 

In fact— it’s still spinning. 

A little seed of hope grows in Connor’s heart at the thought. 

“I’m okay,” Connor finally answers, swallowing loudly in the quiet of the room as he gently traces his free fingers along the lines of his best friend’s face. “Are you?”

Leon dips his head in response, giving him a small, painfully innocent nip of a kiss. “I’m alright. Are you—will you stay?”

Leon's uncharacteristically nervous. It's sweet. 

Connor nods, lips quirking up. "Yeah, Leo. I'll stay."

Leon blushes, despite all they've done. "And in the morning?" 

Connor frowns, knowing in his soul this situation is far from over. Actions have consequences, and like the sun is certain to rise, they’ll have to face them. 

But not right now. Not when Leon's looking at him like that. 

"I'll be here," Connor promises.

"Thank you," Leon breathes, sounding relieved. 

Connor's eyebrows furrow. "You don't have to thank me."

Leon looks sheepish. "But I do. You're important to me. Your time is important."

Connor must look confused because Leon asks, "Don't you know that?"

He can feel a flush creeping in. He turns his face into Leon's pillow, attempting to hide. 

"Oh no, don't you dare." Leon's tone is playful but his eyes are fierce and passionate when they meet Connor's. 

"I know you hear about how special you are all the time. But it's important to hear it from someone who actually knows you. Thank you for being with me tonight...regardless of what happens tomorrow. I'm glad we have now."

Connor blatantly stares at him, jaw slack. "Leon..."

Leon moves his hand to Connor's mouth, traces his thumb over his plump bottom lip with a tender look. "No more talking."

Connor closes his eyes, smiling into the kiss Leon gives him. 

He doesn't feel anxious, or desperate to get home. It's a rare moment of peace. He's pretty content with where he is; who he's with. Things always seem to be better with Leon.

Connor's never had a friend like him before.

**Author's Note:**

> leon and connor are such an interesting dynamic who aren't given nearly enough attention. as long as they continue to make history together- i'll continue to write them. thanks for stopping in~


End file.
